


Mimicry is the Best Form of Flattery

by crackpairingprincess



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi Keiji Is So Done, Fluff, Kuroo is the best bro, M/M, boys being dumb, volleyball shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-25 21:14:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6210340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crackpairingprincess/pseuds/crackpairingprincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bokuto has a four step plan to make Hinata fall for him. It's totally not ridiculous, and it will definitely work (Kuroo said so).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mimicry is the Best Form of Flattery

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rhonnie (Ryonello)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Rhonnie+%28Ryonello%29).



> The time has come to finally post this! I'm so excited!  
> A huge thanks to the lovely allythecatx for helping me out and being an A+ beta
> 
> This is a gift for ryonello on tumblr as part of the hq rarepair exchange.   
> I wasn't really sure what pairing to go with, but I thought of this pot and it had to be BokuHina. Rhonnie, I really hope you like this!  
>  ♡〜٩(^▿^)۶〜♡ HAPPY HQ RAREPAIR EXCHANGE ♡〜٩(^▿^)۶〜♡

"Are you sure you want to do this, Shoyou?" 

"Of course! It's going to be awesome!" Hinata bounced on the ledge of the tub, smiling at Kenma with that blinding grin of his. Kuroo laughed, shooting his childhood friend a smirk over his shoulder. 

“What, don't you trust me?” 

“Hardly.” 

“Kenma, I'm hurt!” The taller male grasped his chest dramatically, receiving only an eye roll in return. He straightened back up and returned to mixing the bowl on the sink. “Besides, I did your hair, didn't I?” 

Kenma ignored him in favor of tapping out a message on his phone. 

“This will work, right? I mean, it has to! It will work, right Kuroo?” Hinata was practically vibrating with excitement and anxiety, and Kenma was beginning to worry that he would pass out. Kuroo laughed again, swinging his mixing brush with grandeur. There were going to be stains all over his bathroom by the time this was over, Kenma could just feel it. 

“Trust me, Shorty, there's no way this won't work!” He snapped his plastic gloves and stepped forward, “Now, let's do this!”

Hinata made an excited noise and closed his eyes as Kuroo brought the brush to his hair. Kenma rolled his eyes and looked back down at his phone. 

**To: Keiji  
Subject: Our friends are dumb  
I take no responsibility for any of the events that are about to take place.**

Akaashi read the message over again, feeling the very particular sense of dread that came from having to deal with Kuroo and Bokuto's antics. Sighing and resigning himself to having to deal with whatever Kuroo was up to this time, he knocked on the door in front of him. The answering yell was almost instantaneous. 

“It's unlocked, come on in!” The setter opened the door and looked around curiously. Bokuto was nowhere to be seen. 

“Bokuto-san,” He called out as he made his way up the stairs, “we need to leave now if we want to catch the next train.” 

“Okay, I'm coming down!”

The blur of orange that rounded the corner could not have been Bokuto. Bokuto did not have orange hair. At least, he hadn't when Akaashi had seen him two days prior. But, lo and behold, the orange haired figure descending the staircase was indeed the ace of Fukurodani, one of the top spikers in high school volleyball, Bokuto Koutarou. Akaashi stared. 

“Bokuto-san,” the setter started slowly, “are you aware that your hair is now orange?” 

“Of course!” Bokuto jumped down the last four steps, throwing an arm not so delicately around Akaashi’s shoulders and shaking his floppy orange head at his setter’s face, “It's all a part of the plan!” 

Akaashi sighed internally; he knew he would regret asking, but…

“What plan would that be?” Bokuto released the other boy in favor of slipping on his shoes and opening the door.

“The plan to get Hinata to like me!” Akaashi followed his captain through the door and down the sidewalk, wondering if this was what Kenma’s text had meant. 

“Step one: get Hinata’s phone number. That part was easy, Kuroo just got it from Kenma. Step two: invite Hinata on a romantic outing,”

“It concerns me that you think playing volleyball with five of our friends is a romantic outing.”

Bokuto sputtered, gesticulating wildly, “Akaashi! I need your support in this!”

Akaashi breathed a steadying breath through his nose, wondering what he must have done in a past life to deserve Bokuto as his best friend. He briefly considered going home and finishing his book. But Bokuto was looking at him in the way he did when he was on the brink of his ‘emo mode’ and the second year only hated himself a little bit for giving in,

“Okay. What's the next step?” It was the right thing to say, because Bokuto bounced ahead of his friend, pointing at his hair with two fingers. 

“I dye my hair to look just like his! I mean, mimicry is the best form of flattery, and flattery is the best way to get someone to like you! Well, that's what Kuroo said. And he's the coolest guy I know!” 

Akaashi bit back the urge to ask how anyone who actually knows Kuroo Tetsurou, arguably one of the dorkiest, most hopelessly lovesick teenagers in all of Tokyo, could take love advice from him seriously. Then again, Bokuto has never been one to rely on common sense. Or any logic at all, really. 

“So, Kuroo came over after practice on Friday and helped me dye it! He's super good at it because he helps Kenma too, so it's no wonder it turned out perfectly.” If he had to give props for anything about this, Akaashi supposed it would have to be the fact that the color had turned out surprisingly well. It was almost as if Hinata's hair had been transplanted directly onto Bokuto's head. Ew. Akaashi dismissed the thought on counts of it being disturbing. He didn't voice it though. 

“Alright,” he muttered instead, “is there a step four?”

They were almost to the station now, and Akaashi was grateful their meetup was only two stops away. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could handle before he left Bokuto tied up in the volleyball net. The idea placated him enough to let Bokuto shuttle him into a corner of the train car, still rambling.

“Ah, yes, the final step.” the loud captain paused in what he probably thought of as a dramatic fashion, “when I show up with this hair, Hinata will look at me with his awesome sparkly brown eyes and say ‘Bokuto-san, your hair is so cool and your spikes are amazing! Please be my boyfriend!’ and then I will sweep him into my arms and we will the the best volleyball boyfriends in Japan!” 

There were many things the setter could have said to that, but Akaashi Keiji was a wise person, and chose to take the high road. 

“Bokuto-san, people are staring.”

-

The volleyball court was actually just a net stretched across the width of the gym in the local rec building, but it was free and close by, so none of the boys complained. Kuroo and Kenma were the first to arrive, followed very shortly by Kageyama and a visibly nervous Hinata. 

“Kenma!” Hinata shouted upon his arrival, “Is he here? Does my hair look okay? Gwuh, I think I’m going to be sick.” He doubled over, clutching his stomach and whining dramatically. Kageyama pulled a disgusted face. 

“Don’t puke on the court, dumbass.” Hinata flailed his arms at his setter as Kuroo stepped up to them. 

“Your hair looks perfect. He’s gonna flip. In a good way, of course.” Kageyama picked up a ball and snorted.

“It looks like your hair got run over by a motorcycle.” 

Hinata began sputtering again, but Kenma spoke over him, “Ah, but it suits him, don’t you think, Tobio?” 

Kageyama blushed and absently bounced the ball in his hands. Hinata wailed again. 

“Kenmaaa! Not you, too!” Kenma shrugged, the smile half hidden by the way he ducked his face to hide behind his hair. Before Hinata could continue his woeful complaints, the door to the gym was thrown open and a loud voice echoed off the walls.

“Hey, hey, hey!”

“Bro!”

“Bro!” Kuroo bumped fists with Bokuto, grinning like the chesire cat all the while.

“Koutarou, what even…” Kenma looked back and forth between Bokuto and where Hinata stood, glued to the spot. Akaashi set his bag along the wall and sighed loudly. 

“So, this is what your text meant, Kenma.” 

Kageyama was looking lost amidst the shouting and the sighing, his eyes following the orange mop that was Bokuto’s hair. He leaned conspiratorially toward Hinata. 

“Hey, Hinata,” The middle blocker didn’t look at him, just made a high pitched wheeze, “Bokuto-san’s hair looks different.” 

Hinata’s only reply was a series of unintelligible noises, as he slowly just raised a finger to point at Bokuto. Kageyama wasn’t even sure the smaller boy had heard him. 

Before Kageyama could say anything else, he noticed that Bokuto and Kuroo had stopped talking and were now looking in his and Hinata’s direction. Most likely because of the fact that Hinata’s noises were getting louder and louder as he continued to point at Bokuto’s hair. 

Bokuto’s jaw seemed to hit the floor when he noticed Hinata. He quickly walked over, and stopped in front of the short middle blocker, his eyes fixated on Hinata’s hair. His gray and black and most definitely no longer red spiked up hair. He reached his hand up and brushed it through Hinata’s hair, awe struck. Hinata’s face was turning an alarming shade of red.

They both stood in silence for what felt like an hour, but in reality was only half a minute before Hinata was finally able to form words. His brown eyes sparkling, he nearly screamed at Bokuto, 

“Bokuto-san, your hair is so cool and your spikes are amazing! Please be my boyfriend!”

“I…” Bokuto swallowed, words just on the tip of his tongue. Hinata was looking up at him, eyes bright and earnest, cheeks still flaming red. The ace spiker felt his heart skip a beat, and he attempted speech again, “Hinata...I...holy shit, YES! Oh my God, it worked, _it worked_!”

Bokuto wrapped his arms around Hinata’s waist, swinging him around in the air, his yells only getting louder, “Kuroo, bro, _you were right, it worked! Holy shit, it worked!_ ”

“It worked…” Hinata’s voice joined in quietly, then grew in volume, “It worked! The plan is a success! Mission complete!” 

The smaller boy’s arms and legs clamped around Bokuto’s torso as they both continued screaming and twirling. Hinata held Bokuto’s face in his hands, his cheeks stretched over a wide smile. Golden eyes gleamed back at him, coming closer until their foreheads touched. They weren’t spinning any more, but they were still holding on to each other for dear life.

“You’re my boyfriend now.” Bokuto laughed out. Hinata nodded enthusiastically. 

“We’re going to be the best volleyball boyfriends in Japan!” That got Bokuto yelling and spinning again, joined by Hinata’s laughter. Kenma groaned as Akaashi glared at Kuroo.

“You did this on purpose?” Kuroo shrugged, the smugness on his lips made Akaashi want to set a ball into his face.

“I needed to get them together somehow.” Kenma shot Kuroo a pointed look.

“And you couldn’t have just set them up on a date like a normal person?” Another shrug. 

“This way seemed like more fun. Besides,” the Nekoma captain pointed at the shouting couple, “it all worked out in the end, right?” 

Akaashi dragged a hand down his face, and only hated himself a little bit for saying, “Yes, I suppose it did.”

“Uhm,” The three non-screaming males looked over at Kageyama, who was spinning a ball between his hands, looking confused, “I’m not really sure what just happened, but...we’re still going to play volleyball, right?”


End file.
